Okay, first things first: To the right, you should be seeing the first picture of the sprog.
The last time we did this, it was a wee bit more of a surprise. This one's older brother still had a week or so left on the timer when he got a bit impatient and I got a phone call at work, saying, "Congratulations! You're an uncle!"
I headed over to the hospital, hoofed it up to the maternity floor, asked for the room at the nurses station and trundled down to visit.
The fact that I was in full uniform didn't really dawn on me until later.
The new daddy took the opportunity to go get some sleep, so I sat in the room for a while making appropriate noises at the kid while mama dozed.
I didn't find out for a while that a couple of the nurses saw a fully-uniformed officer sitting in the room, and came to an understandable, yet completely erroneous conclusion: they assumed that new mama was a jail inmate.
Of course, once I discovered this, I didn't help matters much -- after the snickering stopped -- by telling every staff member who walked into the room that mama was the prime suspect in a Federal Grand Mopery case.
What can I say? I'm shameless.
Anyhoo, I get off work for this one (wearing my S.O. uniform), drive over to the hospital, step off the elevator, and before I can even open my mouth, five nurses point down the hall and tell me the room number.
Apparently Little Mother fully briefed the nursing staff, so as to avoid a repeat of the "Grand Mopery Suspect" bit again.
Oh, well. Foiled again.
Life is good.